


camellias

by obitoforpresident (Bibixblocksberg)



Series: You're so hot, my zipper is falling for you. [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Blow Jobs, Flowers, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mokuton, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibixblocksberg/pseuds/obitoforpresident
Summary: Madara has trust issues, Hashirama is a sunshine and naturally there's some dubious use of the Mokuton.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: You're so hot, my zipper is falling for you. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777657
Comments: 11
Kudos: 108





	camellias

**Author's Note:**

> See me writing another gift, this time for the wonderful, absolutely brilliant and lovely, [Mar](https://fungisailor.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I hope you like it, sweetiepie!

Moonlight was spilling on the bed from the open window, as Madara groaned and teared a black silky blindfold from his face.

“I can’t do this, Hashirama.”

Madara’s heart was beating like crazy, as if he just killed an enemy and was high on adrenaline. He was sure, that if he didn’t get it under control soon, it would just explode in his chest, making a mess on his favorite white linen sheets.

Deep down, he had known that getting blindfolded to try something new in the bedroom was a bad idea, but he had wanted it nonetheless. Something about not knowing what his partner was doing to him, _with him_ , sparked interest in him and the fact that it didn’t go as planned was making him a teeny, tiny bit angry.

But he also knew, where the problem was. Madara was a trained shinobi. He was a shinobi since his early childhood, and he was trained to kill with his eyes. To rob him of his most useful skill in battle was the dumbest idea he ever had and that included to date a complete goofball.

Madara let out a deep sigh, looking at the man who was currently looming over him, long brown hair cascading over broad tanned shoulders. There was a fond look on his face, like always, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief. Uh, oh.

“Oh, no," Madara was shaking his head furiously, narrowing his eyes. “Whatever you plan in that hollow head of yours, Hashirama, leave it be.”

“But-“ Hashirama opened his mouth in defense, but Madara was having none of it. He wouldn’t let him win, not this time.

“We tried it, I absolutely do not like it, and it’s not happening again.”

Hashirama was pouting now, his bottom lip quivering dangerously. Madara hoped to all the gods above, that he wouldn’t start crying. That would kill even the last of his arousal, but he wanted to have fun tonight. He waited all week for this. For a night with just the two of them, without obligations, annoying brothers, and meddling elders.

“But Madara,” Hashirama whined, nestling his face in the crook of his neck, “Let’s try it one more time? Please? I’ve got an idea.”

Madara shot him a skeptic look. He had learned enough in the years he spent living with this idiot of a man, to be careful not to indulge himself in the Senju’s shenanigans.

“And what is that idea, exactly?”

He could feel Hashirama grinning at his neck, and Madara would be lying if he said that this reaction to his question, didn’t make him curious.

“I want it to be a surprise.”

Madara groaned again, burying his face in flowery-smelling hair.

“I don’t like surprises. Didn’t you see that two minutes ago?”

Now it was Hashirama’s turn to let out a heavy groan and he sat up to look in Madara’s face. The Uchiha liked this new position, their legs tangled, and he was having a nice view on naked, sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and a chiseled chest.

New arousal was tingling under his skin, but before he could actually touch all this exposed skin, his lover caught his hand and was pressing it back between them on the mattress.

“You don’t like that you can’t see, even with the Sharingan, right?” Hashirama began patiently, totally ignoring his lover’s longing looks, “So, what if I don’t use my hands but something other instead?”

Madara needed a moment to understand what Hashirama meant and as he finally got it, he began thinking about it. Would it make a difference? Wouldn’t he feel threatened by not knowing what Hashirama would use? They were shinobi, they could make a weapon out of everything.

“What would you use?” Madara asked, hoping that Hashirama would finally understand, that he just doesn’t want to be surprised in that way.

His lover sent him a soft look, brushing a strand of Madara’s hair behind his ear.

“Mokuton,” he finally breathed out and Madara’s brain stopped functioning for a minute there.

Hashirama would use the Mokuton to pleasure him? He would use his strongest weapon to make him scream not in pain, but in pleasure? The more he thought about it, the more he began to like this idea. Even with his trust issues, and his obvious problem of having hands on his body he could not see – Hashirama’s Mokuton never felt threatening to him. For Madara it felt like a fuzzy blanket, like laying at the Naka river with the sun shining on his face.

The Mokuton was the first thing which made Madara fall in love with his partner and the thought of feeling it all over his naked skin - “Okay,” he breathed out in a rush, startling the brown-haired man with his urgency.

“Okay?” Hashirama asked, fingertips sliding over sensitive sides.

Madara nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. Hashirama was beaming now, his radiating grin brightening the half dark room and Madara used this chance to press a quick kiss to the other’s throat. Time to try another round of trusting the man he loved since his early childhood.

Hashirama took the blindfold from Madara’s trembling hands, kissing his forehead before tying the silk around his head. It mesmerized Madara how gentle his partner could be. Had he tried binding the blindfold himself, he surely would have get caught in one of the tangles in his messy hair.

Madara settled back in the sheets and pillows, trying to relax and to let his limbs go slack. The world around him was black and he could feel his other senses sharpening. He could hear the neighbor’s snoring in their sleep, he could smell the cherry tree two streets over and for a moment he thought he could taste Hashirama’s sweat on his tongue.

A deep breath was all it took, to reign his senses back in and to concentrate on his lover, who was now straddling his naked thighs. He could feel the heat of the other man near his groin and anticipation was flooding his body. What would happen next? How would Hashirama use his Mokuton and would it feel so good, like he imagined it would?

A hint of forest, flowers and sunshine hit his nostrils, filling his being with a kind of longing, which only Hashirama could awake in him. The tingle of Hashirama’s massive chakra was flowing over his skin, erupting goosebumps all over his flushed body. The chakra of the Senju felt like coming home for Madara and he instantly bathed in it, like a man finding water in the desert.

All the panic he felt as they tried it the first time was washed away with a wave of longing, lust and love.

Madara could hear himself moan, a deep guttural sound which vibrated in his chest and Hashirama was twitching above him.

He could feel his lover concentrating his chakra in his hands and the next thing he felt were soft petals on his skin. The scent of Hashirama’s chakra was more flowery now, lulling Madara into a comfortable feeling.

“What are they?” he panted between breaths, the petals dancing over his abdomen and chest.

His lover’s fingertips joined them on their journey, pulling on an erect nipple and tickling his sides.

“White Camellias,” Hashirama said softly, affection heavy in his voice.

Madara wanted to open his eyes, to look at the man he loved so much, but all he could see was endless depth of black. He had totally forgotten about the blindfold.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked a bit breathless, focusing on the lonely petal which was climbing their way up at the side of his neck.

“You,” he could feel his lover’s hot breath on his lips, “I’m waiting for you to trust me.”

Madara swallowed hard, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, because how in Kami’s name did he deserve such a patient, beautiful and well-meaning partner? The velvety petals still danced over his body, the warmth of Hashirama’s skin a welcoming blanket and Madara lifted his head to press a chaste kiss on the other’s lips. Images of the last few years flooded his mind and he never was surer about anything in his life.

“I trust you, Hashirama,” Madara whispered against the other man's mouth and he could feel a spark in his lover’s chakra before even more petals searched for a place on his heated skin.

It was a feeling like being constantly teased as flowers and fingertips battled over the inside of thighs, both brushing shyly over his groin and testicles, making the Uchiha heir keen and beg.

“Please,” he breathed out, before another thought hit him, “Are they just white?”

He could hear Hashirama chuckling, as the man leant down, licking a long stripe over Madara’s sweaty neck.

“There are yellow ones, too.”

 _Longing_. Madara’s heart skipped a beat and he was tempted to just tear the blindfold away, so that he could see the emotions rolling over Hashirama’s face. But something betrayed him, maybe a traitorous twitch of a finger or a little quiver in his legs, because the next thing he felt was heavy wood around his wrists.

“The blindfold stays where it is,” Hashirama murmured with a raspy voice, sending shivers down his spine.

Madara didn’t know where his lover secured the self-made cuffs, but he couldn’t care less. He was fully exposed now, hands and arms stretched over his head, without the slightest chance of escaping. He could feel the low buzz of nature and the Senju’s chakra in his hands and it quelled the oncoming panic in his mind.

Just remember, that Hashirama wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you, he told himself over and over, until he could finally focus on the happenings around him. The soft rustling of sheets alerted him that Hashirama was switching his position and he spread his legs to make room for the muscled man. He got a gentle kiss on the inside of his thigh, as a reward for his efforts.

Hashirama’s tongue was now dancing over him, together with what felt like a whole army of petals and Madara arched his back, as his cock sank deep in a hot, wet mouth. He lost all sense of reality, as Hashirama sucked, petals tickling his side and sliding over the inside of his arms, one of them even teasing his lips as if it wants to kiss him.

He wanted to grip something with his hands, something which would grind him on earth before he got lost in the universe with no chance of coming back. His lover teasingly licked over the head of his cock, one of his hands stroking Madara lazily.

“I want to kiss you,” Madara panted, hoping to all the gods above, that Hashirama would grant him his wish.

The tongue vanished from his cock, but the hand kept stroking him, fueling the fire in his insides. His lover’s mouth found his and he could taste himself on the other’s tongue. The kiss ended too fast for Madara’s tastes, but he couldn’t bring himself to complain as the hand on his cock sped up.

Soft wood was tangling itself with his fingers and finally he could hold onto something as the feeling on his cock and the petals on his skin overwhelmed him. With a quick twist of Hashirama’s wrist, Madara came, spilling himself over his stomach and moaning the other’s name loudly. His mind went blank, and for the first time in his life Madara only felt.

The Uchiha needed a few minutes to gain back control over his body and he blushed at the thought of his nearly fainting during his climax. His breathing was still uneven and he had to blink a few times, as Hashirama got rid of the blindfold. His eyes found his lover’s face, a smile playing on those red lips he liked to kiss and he softly caressed them with his thumb.

“Thank you,” he whispered, Hashirama’s smile just getting bigger.

He pressed a kiss on Madara’s thumb, before laying down next to him.

“I love you,” the Senju said softly, while freeing him of his wooden cuffs.

“I love you, too,” Madara was looking down now, registering the white, yellow and red camellias spilling all over his body and the bed. His mouth twitched at the sight of the chaos.

“You’ll clean that up first thing in the morning,” he murmured, while snuggling into his lover’s arms, not caring about the mess on his stomach. A chuckle was the only answer he got, strong muscled arms winding around him and trapping him against the other’s chest. Kami, but he does love this man. A soft smile was playing on his lips, while he slowly drifted off to sleep, Hashirama’s lovely, welcoming chakra all around him.


End file.
